The Odds of the Game
by inafrozenworld
Summary: Fye is drawn to numbers and Kurogane to sport. Childhood friends, their love blossomed over time and is re-sparked when they meet for a second time as adults with unusual occupations. Could chance have truly brought them there and where will it lead them?
1. Chapter One: Together

**_a/n: _**_First off, if you're American or use American spelling, whenever I write 'football' please think 'soccer'! I'm using UK terms and since that one gets mentioned quite often it could get confusing. Secondly, while writing this I was experimenting with the layout which this site, sadly, can't utilise. If you'd like to see it with the different fonts included then check my livejournal. The link is on my profile and if you click on 'Multi-chapters' on the master list, it should be the third from the top. Thirdly (wow, this is a long note...) there will be sections in this that will be M-rated as a warning though it won't slip into full-blown NC-17 type stuff. Finally, it was nice writing this story and I hope you enjoy reading it =)_

* * *

**Together**

_Come home with me_, he'd told him as a child, snatching at his wrist, eyebrows furrowed in a sweet and protective frown.

Dusting the dirt from the scrape in his knees, Fye gives a reassuring smile. _It's fine_.

_It's not fine_, Kurogane declared, tugging him to his feet. _There's blood on it!_

_Stop worrying!_ Fye moaned, allowing himself to be dragged by the wrist through the park, smaller feet stumbling and stick thin legs wavering through the cut grass, treading heavily and unsteadily on soft daisies. _It's fine!_

_Tch! Liar!_ his friend spat with a glance behind him and another sharper, more curious glance as Fye started to giggle at his annoyance.

_What's so funny?_ he whined, grabbing Fye's other wrist, shaking it in aggravation, finding himself smiling too as Fye laughed, young and soft, sweet and bright.

- - -

**Fye (7) tripping over in a game - 0.38251**  
**Kurogane (21) tripping over in a game - 0.10978**

**  
****- - -**

He could hear the cheers, resounding chants and drones building and ringing in his ears within the darkened tunnels, under in the strip-lighted corridors, through the grey and hard-worn walls and echoing about the stadium, even boring into the changing rooms. And it made him sick with himself. Shoes falling with a violent clatter to the ground as he discarded them; for such apparent potential there had seemed to be so much lacking in his performance. He could feel the sting where his limbs had scraped along the pitch, hard worn ground and trimmed grass, felt the dirt faintly clinging to his skin, a sticky texture as he pressed a hand against it. There was a faint throb in his ankle, a tiny glimmer of pain, but none of this mattered. His pride had taken the fiercest blow of the fall, bleeding slightly as he changed, as the footsteps and the shouts faded into the background, leaking away. He showered quickly, something burning and lingering in his expressions and movements, fierce and blunt, something dangerous in that heavy glower sharp on his brows and shining in his eyes as he buttoned his shirt, carelessly threw his bag over his shoulders and clattered through the doors.

He stomped down the corridor, footsteps echoing darkly about the dim corridor, strip light flickering in the grey and mottled recesses. They shone meekly and chemically, a faint synthetic blear about the cement brick walls that boxed in and threw the resounding thud of his own embittered footsteps down through the tunnel, clacking and clicking with obvious resentment.

"Kurogane…" came a far softer noise, drifting from along the corridor, floating into his ear and curling there strangely, intriguing and yet homely.

Kurogane smirks loosely, a damp sort of cheer, before carrying on, lifting his eyes to gaze towards him, the faint glow from the lighting against his pale hair, the elegant and slender shape of his form against the empty and hollow interior of the stadium, the sly smile lying sleek on his lips, a bag in his hands, fingers wrapped tightly about the worn and dirtied strap… That rucksack he'd taken to school. It was still marked with pen, faint scribbles and doodles, it was still stained with grass, vibrant streaks across the grey, it was still mottled with faint pin pricks from badges, an ink stain where his pen had leaked… it was begrimed and deformed with the slight rips and tears at the seams. Faintly, he remembers throwing it into a tree… to what means he does not know.

And Fye smiles, deep and knowing in front of him, slick and cunning, mistrustful and dark in a sense but still beautifully gleeful, a dreaming and contented edge in its faint curve. His eyes glimmer and he steps forward, pressing the bag into Kurogane's hands as they both draw closer, gaze digging into him challengingly with that same smooth perk to his lips…

He draws the zip open and all he sees is cash. It betrays the concept of depth, it seems to well up from beneath, lies there like a matted pool within its worn and flimsy casing.

Fye's smile glows warmly towards him under the bleached lighting, his hair shining in a golden halo around the edges, illuminated by the light shining bright at the other end of the tunnel.

"How much?" Kurogane asks though the question seems stuck in his throat.

Fye's eyes glimmer, sparkling like precious diamonds before him as he answers, a beautiful whisper, a suspenseful breath, "A million."*

Kurogane nearly chokes, emits a smothered laugh, frowning in disbelief towards the bag, heavy in his hands as Fye explains, his voice seeming unreal as it echoed and slipped about the bleak corridor, "That's not all of it… that's just so I can get used to the idea and figure out what to do from now on…" He purses his lips, thoughtfully shifts them to the side as his eyes slink and lower. And then he blinks, smiles tightly and happily, runs his hand along the side of Kurogane's face and pulls himself closer, brings their bodies into contact.

Kurogane can feel his breath against his face, his other hand slipping and clutching tightly to his shoulder, his fingers pressing endearingly into the skin under his shirt, giving a hesitant smirk as Fye holds himself firm against him, arms wrapping about him in a delicate embrace.

His lips drift over to his ear. And they whisper preciously in a breath so warm and light, Kurogane's spine draws tight at the sound drawn carefully and thoughtfully from Fye's mouth – "Come home with me…"

He closes his eyes, drops both bags, draws his arms around Fye's back…

- - -

_I can put on my own plaster!_ he cried, swatting the hand away from his knee, insultingly, clawing to rip the plaster from the other's fingers, one just as stubborn as the other.

_Hold still!_ Kurogane had snapped, struggling against Fye's hands with a single arm, dangling a plaster over his scraped and bloody knee propped up on the kitchen worktop. Eventually, with a small and concentrating pout and frown, he accurately pressed the plaster to Fye's knee, running over it firmly with his palm to ensure it was stuck while Fye childishly swung his legs. _Stop it!_ Kurogane yelled, shoving his legs against the drawers with a clatter, holding them there in a bitter huff.

_Okay!_ Fye chirped with an immature ring to his tone, a pout held firm on his lips as his raises his leg up to the countertop, inspecting the plaster fully, running his thumb about the ages. _Kurogane?  
_

_What?_ the other boy huffed, snapping the plastic box shut, placing it back in its corner within the drawer and slamming it shut again.

Fye's eyes ran over to him, smiled with a sickly sweet taint that mismatched the question. _If I died would you miss me?_

Kurogane stared into him, youthful eyes narrowing uncertainly, suspicious of the question. _It'd be your own fault_, he eventually moaned, clambering on top of the counter next to Fye, heels clattering against the cabinet door. He pulled himself over to sit comfortably, watched carefully and thoughtfully.

_But would you miss me?_ Fye asked again, his small and anxious smile revealing tiny and rounded teeth, a few missing, causing that distinctly childish and innocent lisp – would you miissssth me - as he started swinging his legs again perched between the cooking utensils and the sugar jar.

Kurogane's eyes glared hard into him as though boring into his skin before he flicked his head away, lowered his gaze embarrassedly. _Maybe…_

Fye smiled again, this time mouth shut, lips tracing a shy pink arc on his mouth, tainted with sprinkles from lollipops and chocolate from cookies_._

_I just said maybe!_ Kurogane snapped, cheeks tainted and blushed, shoving his shoulder in aggravation, unable to dissolve the widening grin in front of him.

- - -

He breathes in the scent of his hair, so soft and familiar, finds his lips drifting down the side of his head, nose buried in fine, smooth locks, shifting silkily beneath his skin, running along to meet the side of his face. He holds him there, clasps him in his arms, planting small and tender kisses into the tip of his ear, feeling his hands shift to softly stroke the back of his neck, loving and adoring, something long lost.

"I missed you," Fye mumbles into his chest, head nestled there with a blissful smile against his lips, fingers curling contentedly above Kurogane's shirt.

He never responded, merely taking a large breath, pulling Fye tighter to his chest as though to permanently link them together, never to be separated. His fingers sift softly through his hair, breathing in every trace of him before dropping his lips to Fye's, pressing against them gently and disbelieving. Today their lips brushed, something beautifully delicate and precious in their hold.

And when they finally drew apart, separating as hesitantly and tenderly as they'd come together, Kurogane smirked, something physical and real between them, grounding them once more as his voice skimmed and rumbled pleasantly, "What do you do with a pile of cash then?"

"I don't know," Fye sighed, resting his head against his chest once more, his breath spilling warmly over Kurogane's shirt, tapping his fingers lightly against it in thought.

"It barely feels real to me yet…"

* * *

_**a/n: **This fic is a little experimental for me. In fact I was basically just doing whatever I wanted and I really enjoyed writing that way. It was pretty refreshing but it means I have no idea how it sounds to the reader so feedback is more than welcome, it's loved and cherished and much appreciated! So please don't skip the button, even if it's just short! Reviewing with positive comments and constructive criticism is one of the nicest things a reader can do for a writer. It's a real help and a confidence boost too. So I end up more willing to write and everyone's happy!_

_* Like I said, I'm using British terms here so Fye is using pounds. The exact value won't really matter (since I mostly picked a million because it's rounded, unusual and has a fairytale ring to it) but here are a few values for reference:_

**UK Pounds/GBP** - £1 000 000.00  
**US Dollars/USD** - $1 651 693.52  
**Euros/EUR** - €1 156 945.69  
Through xe .com on 28/07/09


	2. Chapter Two: Childhood

**Childhood**

He was seven years old and he had a football rather than a father, a working mother, a rented flat and a companion. And from time to time, they'd sit up on the kitchen cabinets with their legs swinging down below, discussing the potential ramifications of a tie draw in the league tables and the benefits of eating bananas over apples as their toes seemed to scrape towards infinity, in this case the yellowing linoleum below their scuffed and dangling trainers.

Kurogane was a severe boy, his father removed at too young an age, granted too much responsibility so young. He could boil an egg to perfection and utilise the washing machine better than his own mother, a hushed secretary at the firm down the road and around two corners. During the summer holidays he used to carry his ball across the street to the park and drop kick goals into the sparse and rusting frames alone, never having been a social child to begin with, never taking to friends or company too well, enjoying his own solitude in peace, the blunt and familiar thump of the ball against his foot resounding as a reassuring constant, solid and real against his ears.

And then he met Fye.

Fye, the orphan at the care home on the other side of the park, Fye of the golden hair and friendly laughter. He used to run away to buy trading cards for his twin brother, viewing himself as almost a root to his salvation as he clambered from the dusty window on the way out and thumbed the cards with sticky, sugar-coated fingers on the way back. His brother couldn't make it down the stairs alone, couldn't travel very far outside at all and certainly not without getting caught. And it was as he returned with a reflective charizard, the sun bouncing sharply off its sheen and catching his eyes, that he saw a boy forever shooting own goals on the pitch to his right.

At first he was an ill-defined blur, a haze against the sinking blaze of the sun, yellowed like treacle against the smooth and silken sky. The boy ran about, a sad silhouette against the evening, a lonely thing, a tragedy. His gelled sparks glimmered like a halo and his limbs held themselves firm and solid against the pale and pink-hued setting glowing warmly and fatefully at his trainer donned feet.

For roughly a minute Fye struggled with the temptation to greet him, standing solitary on the path with his shoulders held taught in a shy gesture. But then the boy shouted, he barked rather: _What are you staring at?_ It was thrown at him in a spitting remark, emerging bitterly from a soul removed and set to the side.

All of a sudden, Fye grinned; he scampered over, not a word from his lips as he made his way over to the boy, his features becoming clearer as he grew ever closer and ever nearer, spying his facial features beneath the rich and lathering glare of the sun – dark hair, Asian features, sharp jaw, sweetly immature pout and knitted brows – his feet carrying him towards destiny it seemed… the chances of meeting your one true love at seven?... He didn't realise at the time, he may have been excited otherwise, but it was impossible to count. After all, love is far too subjective to become numerated.

- - -

**Meeting your true love aged seven - ?  
Meeting your future partner aged seven – 0.0000773036487  
**

- - -

And so Fye introduced himself, clueless to the implications and the depths of such a simple thought and motion. _I'm Fye._

He picked up the football, he bit his lip, shyly, anticipating something grand as he clutched the dirty thing between pale and previously scrubbed fingers. He asked if he could play with him. But just for five minutes because he needed to get back to his brother.

Kurogane never responded to any of this, just stared into the youthfully rounded face, the flickers of gold about his eyes, angelically blue, strangely so, mistrustfully so… Uncertain how to respond, unable to define his feelings for this new kid he merely scoffed, he raised his eyebrows and nodded to the cards limply hanging from Fye's jean pocket. _Is that a reflective charizard?_

Fye blinked, he carefully set the ball down on the grass, dew-blessed and moist, glinting in the thick light. He plucked the card from his pocket, he handed it across.

The boy glanced down towards it, as though inspecting its authenticity.

_It's for my brother_, Fye explained. _He's very ill so he's in a wheelchair. I'm not but I still have to go visit the doctor's just as many times. Just in case… But I know my brother likes these cards. I hope they'll make him feel a bit better._

To which Kurogane merely stared towards him, his fingers brushing against a world he'd never come into contact with before. And all of a sudden he felt… awkward. He handed the card back, he wiped something from his face with the back of his sleeve.

Fye's mouth perked a smile as he pocketed the simple paper back into his trousers. He stated, a precious glimmer, a nonchalant grin, _I like you. You haven't told me I'm weird yet._

Kurogane nearly laughed. He picked up the ball, clutching it fiercely like a shield, defending him from all these changes, all these new people who wanted to know him. _You are weird_, he declared.

The other kid's shoulders bunched up, the corners of his mouth twitched uncomfortably and his lips fiercely pursed, feeling somehow mistaken.

_They call me weird too_, Kurogane admitted, throwing the ball into Fye's hands, roughly, sharply, as though forcing the emotion from his tone and into his actions, that bitter revulsion…

Fye stared with furious intent towards the ball trapped within his small hands and then towards Kurogane, each conflicted emotion displaying on his lips. _Can we be friends?_ he asked, _ I was told I need more friends_.

Kurogane shrugged and there was silence. It was drawn out of their surroundings, pulled through each ray of sunlight and each blade of grass, the way the sun skimmed with glowing refinement, dancing about the edges of each and every cloud, licking them a glorious vibrant shade. It lay slick, fat and empty between the two children. Somewhere a jogger's feet beat the nearby path and someone yelled but these things all seemed to separate, detached from this dubious stare they both seemed to share. So in the end Kurogane just snapped, _You gonna kick it or what?_

And most vividly, he could remember how Fye had suddenly grinned, as if there were nothing more wonderful in the world.

* * *

_**a/n: **__Has anyone watched the film 'Amélie' here? This was the first part I wrote and I decided to mess about a bit and try to do something a little different but since I was practically going through with an obsession with the film, I was really aiming for the sort of warm, quirky and almost kitsch feel it has to it! Blended with a slightly homier feel I suppose, the shapes and dimensions and colours of the types of buildings about the parks I immediately thought of while writing this, big, grey stone walls and old windows, drain pipes leaking rust, bits of shed and overgrown grass, cats and this real feel of space… I've gone completely off-track, haven't I? And you probably have no idea what the hell I was on about… Well hope you're enjoying this fic, please review with any thoughts or comments =)_

_PS. Wasn't such a huge fan of Pokémon as a kid so I have no idea how likely getting that card is! It was the first thing I thought of xD_


	3. Chapter Three: Friendship

**Friendship**

They'd been left to their own devices, to curl away in the summer sun together, lying against the grass with a sweet taint to their lips, lollipops and trading cards. They whispered to each other about television when Fye invited him to his shared room at the care home, they both sat on the bed against the wall, springs creaking and groaning with wear and age, determined to pierce their young and innocent sphere, a bubble of naïve happiness. They would shout to each other at Kurogane's flat when the washing machine was on, blearing and rattling in a magnificent drone, the screech and whir or a jumbo jet perhaps. It made strange noises as it ran, the blue paint was half peeled off the wall at the back. Sometimes Fye would sit on top of it and swing his legs as Kurogane tidied away washing. Because Fye was stupid and he'd get it all wrong if he let him help, he said. Alright, whatever he said, Fye was no expert when it came to laundry.

And still, they trusted each other more than any other, mumbled secrets and stories into the shell of the other's ear, something of themselves leaked and shared.

Sometimes I'm scared my brother will be taken away. Sometimes my mother cries over my father so much, her tears might not stop and then there won't be anything. It was times like those when Fye would squeeze his hand, when Kurogane would blush and stutter away from the subject, quickly turning away from Fye's wonderful little smile, melancholy and pure.

It was strange and it was precious, this thing held between them.

- - -

Fye was the stupidest person who Kurogane had ever met. He gazed towards the sky like he expected it to do something meaningful, as though a wonderfully crafted star might appear and whisper dreams into his ears; he laughed at the smallest of motions, giggled whenever Kurogane tripped over himself playing football about the park. And yet Kurogane had never heard a prettier sound other than the wind chime his mother hung by living room window. Perhaps she was expecting something to crawl through the edges of the glass, breathing gently against it, a mysterious and careful breeze shifting the thin and tiny bells, ringing lightly, twinkling serenely in a miraculous daze. So far no such occurrence. The chimes remained silent and still. Instead, the noise was replaced with his friend's laughter – the one that almost sang with bliss and happiness, carefree or perhaps careless. Either seemed to embody Fye's spirit.

It was the most annoying thing about him – he had a habit of walking straight on to roads.

- - -

**Dying after being hit by a car on a residential A-class road – 0.26431**

- - -

Each and every time, Kurogane would latch on to the back of his shirt, tugging him away with a sharp and fearful cry, fiercely declaring him a damn idiot who should watch where he steps. And each and every time, Fye would seem fearfully blind to the cars skimming past his nose, to the toes of his shoes curling dangerously over the kerb and smile so sweetly towards him. _It's alright_, he always chimed, brushing Kurogane's balled fist away with a slickly painted grin against his young face.

Although in a strange sense it told the brash, young child how quickly life could be snatched from his hands, removed from the flesh. For the first time, it felt clear that the body was merely vulnerable skin and bones, completely breakable, ultimately powerless, clutching to Fye's arm, smoothened and thin, slender bones and delicate skin beneath his dirty plasters and bruises, dragging him adamantly over the road. His cheeks turned a softened red, irritated and annoyed, a shiver ran down his spine in frustration.

At that age he was coming closer to an understanding of mortality but love still seemed to evade his mind, as did a feeling of purpose. If he'd understood then he might have been able to conjure the reason Fye walked without looking, his head in the clouds searching for that star with a clear intention.

But still, aged nine, these revelations continued to slip from his fingers and his mind, focused mostly on the ball, at times the way Fye's hair seemed to shine in competition with his smile on the sidelines. These things would come in time, the realisation that in a strange and round-about way, Fye was trying to put himself in harm's way, that he couldn't stand losing his friend, that he really, really liked him, even if he was stupid, even if he wanted to die and his parents were gone, even though he couldn't play football and went to a different school.

In his mind, immature and naïve, a childish world of simple games and plain and wholesome friendship, it was almost as if he imagined spending his life with Fye at his side. Otherwise what they had might shatter, might break away into tiny pieces, never to be recovered or gazed upon again. There was no one like him. There was no one other than Fye who'd attached himself to his life whole-heartedly, who'd laughed so freely and beautifully at every game, who'd watch his games and maybe TV on Saturdays when he was free. Even as an adult, Kurogane looked back to that child fondly, felt something distantly happy and nostalgic rise through him as he thought of the way Fye had lounged across his old beaten sofa, legs dangling distractedly in the air, a pleased and contented smile dangling against his lips, warm within his mind.

In the end the smile had matured alongside Fye without Kurogane there to watch them develop. It was a mild surprise, a slight shock to the system. He'd been draped between the bar and a stool in the VIP section with a strangely lonely smile against his lips, almost dreaming as his finger ran over the rim of his champagne glass, a distraction, those slender and tapered fingers gliding smoothly in a motion so graceful and alone it hurt to behold. Those familiar blue eyes were gleaming half-lidded and whimsical in some sense. And as they had met his own, running over him for the first time in years, that sad tweak to his lips had vanished, that elegant droop in his posture had faded. His smile slipped so naturally into a subtle grin, the edges rising in a smooth curve, immediately friendly, covered, thick and impenetrable. It had taken Kurogane by surprise, watching his eyes glitter so fondly. As if the shards of their childhood remained pressed into their hands.

- - -

_**a/n: **__I seem to have this thing with making Fye a sad tragedy-case :/ … Well I guess he is a sad tragedy-case. Tearful drama aside, I really hope some of the ideas behind this are coming through lol because that's all there is to it mostly!_


	4. Chapter Four: Kiss

**Kiss**

There were moments when Fye's behaviour concerned Kurogane, even slightly. That stepping out on to the roads business – that was worrying. The way he never immediately stood up after falling over, the way his fingers clenched fiercely into the damp and sweet dirt as he cupped his nose, a fat slither of blood slipping heavily from his nostril. And it hadn't been as though Kurogane had aimed for his face with the ball, it had merely happened so was it really much to be sorry over? All the same, he tapped a finger to his shoulder, mumbling a half-chewed apology and tugged at his shirt sleeve, gesturing him to stand. So maybe he was easily bruised and easily stunned, but that made each problem an even greater cause for concern.

One day he stood on the newly erected stands, flimsy metal poles standing scant and half-formed about the squint and dug-up football pitch. They'd last a few games between the schools at the very least, these tall and unsettling metal bars. But it was almost as if Fye had some sort of death wish, he leaned that far over them inspecting their height and structure, gazing fully at their bunched up splendour. His feet had lifted from the ground for the briefest instant, his weight had tipped over as he'd smiled joyously, knuckles clenched tight about the metal as his balance dropped away from himself, as he gazed to the distant ground in wonder. He'd have fallen, he'd have dropped like a stone and cracked that stupid skull of his wide open if Kurogane hadn't snatched him, if Kurogane hadn't thrown his arms about his stomach, yanking him back over the bar with a squeal. He pulled him back, holding him close to his chest, those thudding heart-beats as his breath seemed to rest against his neck, words falling straight into his ear – _Idiot! Trying to kill yourself?_ … Fye had gasped, he had blinked and frozen and stared straight ahead in a state of shock and surprise. Kurogane could feel it beneath his arms, his muscles tensed, his limbs held in suspension as he clutched on to him, understanding he should let go, feeling a closeness and a warmth that he'd never experienced before, each pulse of Fye's beneath his finger ringing somewhere within him, brutal and real, somehow perfect and correct in each sense, the scent of his hair floating and pressing softly against Kurogane's senses, each flicker of gold tickling gently and wonderfully against his face as his hold suddenly tightened about him. Something about his skin, the close embrace, the way Kurogane could feel his breath beneath his finger tips, causing his stomach to knot and little heart to beat faster made him pull Fye closer towards him. He lifted his face from his neck and brushed his lips against his cheek, a gentle and childish fraction of a kiss, lingering soft and youthful, purely because it had felt right at the time, appropriate in a way, until he felt Fye inhale sharply and deeply through his own skin. He lifted his lips from his skin, drifting along his face as though nothing had happened at all, breaking something between them apart. _Stupid_, he breathed vehemently into his ear just to compensate, feeling his voice and his heart tremble as he awkwardly let go, struggling to justify his own actions in his youthful mind-frame. He pursed his lips tightly and frowned.

By the time Fye had turned around, his mouth held slightly open in wonder, his fingers touching against his cheek disbelievingly, he was already halfway down the stairs, feet pounding in romantic embarrassment and cheeks stained a vibrant red.

They were nine years old.

***

**Fye's first kiss being Kurogane – 0.768329**

***

"It meant everything to me," Fye had admitted, twenty-one years of age as he sipped against the bar, that reflective dew shining in his eyes. He smirked, a whimsical taint. "And I promised to myself then and there that you would be my first kiss. I'm not sure why… it just felt like the right thing to believe in at the time." His voice slipped smooth and silken from his voice, strikingly sad, ultimately beautiful.

Kurogane gave a small chortle, smiling, feeling somehow privileged at such a small gesture. "Well I'm glad it worked out for you, I got teased for months."

Fye smiled lightly, tapping his fingers against the bar. "It was memorable at least… But then there was my virginity. Who was going to take that if it wasn't you?"

Kurogane nearly spluttered his drink, instead choking and coughing solidly for the next minute as Fye patted his back, laughing.

* * *

_**a/n: **I semi-abandoned this fic I think but it's all written up and just waiting to be posted. I'm usually not that eager to post them due to all the formatting I end up doing on livejournal and this doesn't seem to be as popular as a few of my others but nonetheless I really hope you enjoyed it! And to make up for my slacking, another chapter or two will be posted incredibly soon :D_


	5. Chapter Five: Brother

**Brother**

Kurogane had only met his brother twice before, wheel-chair bound and somehow distant, conscious and yet terrifyingly lost to the young boy. It was nothing Kurogane had seen before nor would ever be used to, the look on Fye's brother's face. The words simply swelled up beneath his lips then disappeared, vanished without a trace as he stared with immediate discomfort. His lips pursed, feeling each comforting remark or casual comment or intrigued question dancing bluntly and heavily against his tongue, shut off and barred release until they were hastily swallowed, his stomach churning with unease. Fye could feel it. He was all too used to sensing it, allowing his gaze to drift from his friend difficultly, understanding and yet bitterly wishing, dreaming once again.

He'd told Kurogane, revealed to him before in their precious and open state of friendship: _We're identical twins so I should have the same condition he's got _– he had shaken his head, lightly tossed it from side to side –_ It doesn't look like I have it. It's even weirder they say. Because we're supposed to share genes and we've grown in the same womb and everything and we turned out different. It's pretty rare. They had a number for it though. The chances of it happening are 0.0003521 … I wrote it down_ – he finished proudly, a wide and beaming grin of little teeth and sweet nature.

He'd committed it to memory, could chant it like a mantra, near robotic.

_0 point 00035210 point 00035210 point 00035210 point 00035210 point 0003521_

It creeped Kurogane out. What did it even mean anyway? Did it mean Fye was a number? Was he part of a number? How did he even know it was talking about him in the first place? It seemed unreal to him. Fye wasn't a number in the slightest, he was a boy, but still that one probability seemed to hold a very dear place in his heart. Or maybe it was his mind, somehow reassured but disturbed by it at the same time, almost as if it spoke to him, told him who he was, how strange he was, exactly to 7 decimal places what made him the person he is and what he had stolen from his brother. Perhaps the number didn't even have a voice, perhaps Fye could only hear it in his head.

It never spoke to Kurogane. It symbolised nothing to him.

And there he went again – I am not a person, I am 0.0003521. It reminded Kurogane of a violent robot film he was too young to see and his mum hadn't been at home to switch off. Something about it made him feel like standing up taller and speaking louder, quite clearly older than all of you saps, made him feel like wrapping an arm around Fye's shoulders and telling him, all grown up like, that it wasn't his fault that he was stupid… or rap something against his head to check it wasn't metal. Either worked. He seemed to recall going for the second.

_What was that for?!_ Fye had immediately cried, giving him a sharp and confused shove.

_You might be a robot, idiot!_ Kurogane had immediately retaliated, pushing him in return, silenced once more when Fye turned towards his brother, lovingly wiping something spilt from his lips. He nearly blushed although he couldn't think why.

***

In general his heart had a tendency to freeze, his stomach grew cold and tight whenever he saw Fye with his brother. The way he crouched down to eye-level with him, the way he whispered to him, an excited and happy little grin, beaming down towards him. He'd sometimes take his hand, fingering the palm carefully and lovingly, as if connecting somehow at the touch of that soft and slightly pudgy flesh, something broke through to Fye, told him it'd be alright.

There was something about the way he spoke straight into him, his lips hovering inches before his nose, his eyes wide and beaming, adoring. That gaze, that careful movement of his lips… it made the young Kurogane think he was trying to talk past something, like he was talking to someone through a glass pane or the sea, that his gentle voice, lyrical and soft had always floated through a sorrowful barrier to something deep inside his brother, the soul that could never respond or take his hand in return. Fye had spent all of his life reaching out to his brother.

Kurogane wasn't sure which brother he felt most sorry for.

***

**His brother dying before the age of ten – 0.132721  
**

***

He was sat on the bench; he was playing with his fingers, folding them over each other as though his mind were escaping something, pushing away and avoiding a dark cloud hovering over his shoulders in the curling of his hands, how they pushed against each other and gripped fingers, carefully drawing his worries from his mind. The wind scraped against his hair without sentiment, the light fell about him with a gentle sigh, soft and warm about his precious skin. And as he saw Kurogane wander over, ball under arm, frown pressed to face, he tried to smile. It crumbled under a single breath of the wind.

_What's wrong?_ Kurogane had naively asked, placing his beloved ball firmly and carefully to the ground, approaching the strangely glazed look in his friend's eyes.

His mouth had shivered, given a slight tremble. His eyes began to water and his mouth edged – _He's…_

He started to weep, shoulders hunched, knees bunched, the droplets dripping from his arms as he brought his legs to his chest, wrapped his arms about himself as if retreating into a shell. His body shivered with the effort of crying.

Kurogane flinched, anxiety creeping in on him. Pacing over with a hesitant tread, not a clue how to react to this situation… He opened his mouth once, bit the words away. He held out his hand, stretching it over in a sympathetic motion, hovering over Fye's body for a long and uncertain moment before he finally placed it roughly against his shoulder, at a complete loss for words or for action. He frowned, he pouted awkwardly… He slowly sat down beside Fye, his guts wrapping about themselves as he watched his friend sob beside him.

_Is it about your brother?_ he bluntly asked, throwing the question straight into the wound, unaware of his mistake. Fye clenched himself into a tighter knot.

_I-is he alright?_ Kurogane's voice now mumbled, fearful of Fye's reaction, burrowing into itself.

The boy beside him had gulped and his lips had wavered. Finally, he furiously shook his head, his locks slipping hesitantly over themselves as his head sprang fiercely from side to side like he was trying to shake the idea from his very memory.

Before Kurogane could ask, before he could harshly throw all of Fye's sorrow and pain into the air, right there to dig into his skin for him to behold, he'd breathed, he'd sobbed, he'd carried on the very whisper of the evening wind – _He's dead_.

And carried on to explain – _He's there_ – shooting a finger up into the air, dangling uncertainly to the sky, a flimsy and fragile reassurance as it wobbled solitary in the open. It stood against the sky in a pitiful gesture.

Slowly, just as afraid and uncertain, Kurogane reached up to clasp it.

His eyes constantly on Fye, his gaze narrowing in what danced near fear and worry, he felt his hand grasp Fye's in a motion so strong it hit blunt and firm against his young mind, it sat between them, awkward and deep. His fingers came to curl tightly about Fye's own, digging so brutally they might have snapped, he'd pulled the hand from the air, feeling it shake and relent as he snatched it from against the sky, brought it closer to his body. Kurogane barely had any idea what he was doing anymore as he'd grasped Fye's shoulder tight, standing in front of him like an immortal constant, repeating sternly as though chipping it into stone, _I'll always be here for you_.

His breath stopped, his mind caught up with his actions, painfully feeling Fye's glazed and vulnerable eyes treading hopeful and frightened against his own.

_I won't leave you.  
_

***

"You're a damn liar, Kurogane," Fye bitterly breathed as the last of the champagne slid past his lips. He set the glass down on the polished counter with a refined clink, so tight and professional it nearly made his stomach turn. More pressing was the harsh glint in Fye's eyes. "I moved away and that was it." He propped himself up of the bar with his elbow, fist curled lightly against his jaw. "We're only here right now because I searched you out."

Kurogane frowned, tight and thoughtful, his hunch over the bar stool straightened in a serious edge. "So what? You never want to be apart again?"

It was the single falter Fye made the whole evening, the whole damn flawless charade, the dripping words, the cold and softly piercing tone, each hard and resentful flicker of his eyes. The love that occasionally drifted from his lips, the nostalgic reminder aimed deftly, digging into Kurogane guiltily and relentlessly. His eyes had widened for a fraction of an instant, his gaze had spun over in surprise. "I didn't mean it like that," he seemed to breathe with his mouth set hard and anxious.

Kurogane stood from his bar stool, his eyes closing shut for an instant. He stepped around the single stool between them.

Fye hadn't flinched as he'd cupped his face, slipping his hand down his fine and smooth jaw line, across his wary expression, eyebrows raised curiously, eyes hardened cautiously; hadn't resisted as Kurogane pressed their lips together, firm and intentional. His breath had wavered against Kurogane's skin though his lips did not shift or press against Kurogane's, hovering there, soft and unmoving, uncertain and conflicted.

* * *

_**a/n: **Even I know that twin bit doesn't make sense but I'd bet it's happened somewhere before. You may also have realised I was making everything up as I went along, numbers and all. I was really writing all of this from very vague concepts but with this sort of subject it didn't entirely feel right to make it up. I feel like I've messed in something very sensitive and I can only hope I've not insulted anyone and sincerely apologise if I have. I had nothing particular in mind - only a notion. That said, I hope you're still enjoying this!_


	6. Chapter Six: Sex

**_a/n: _**_Want to know why this took me so long to update? Take a look at the chapter title... yeah... I wrote all of this without the serious intention of posting it and the disadvantage of that is I get easily embarrassed by it. Don't get me wrong - there's nothing filthy or pervy in this chapter - just I was terrified to post this! I know I've said that before but well... it's the same thing! Please instil your own judgement and I really hope you enjoy it!  


* * *

_  
**  
Sex**

As Kurogane pulled away, as he drifted from Fye's lips, his frown set hard against his brow once more, his eyes glared and burrowed deep into Fye's own, still angelically clear, glowing pale like heaven.

He was a man anything but heavenly, that sly and irresistible smirk, dark and toying, a beautiful realisation sparkling in the core of his eyes. He wrapped his arms about Kurogane's neck, clasping him artfully in a surprisingly firm embrace and kissed him deeply, blossoming from a light and precious touch, lips brushing together temptingly, to a hard and moist lock.

It felt like they were both sinking into the other without a clue or a care how to emerge back to the surface.

***

_I love him_, he'd whispered into the shell of his brother's ear, an excited tremble of breath and childish theory. _We'll get married and stay together forever.__  
_

His lips had fallen away, his eyes had skimmed to the quivering blades of grass. _But don't worry, I'll still be here for you, _he added with a caring peck to the cheek_._

***

The wind skimmed lightly in the trees, across the wide and open blue summer skies, the sun shining kindly against their skin as Fye took a wavering breath, his lips trembling anxiously, coming to smile through the golden silence drawn from the two of them, confidence awakening and rising in a gentle wash through his chest as he grinned.

_I like men_, he'd casually proclaimed into the silent air, quite clearly and blatantly meaning 'I like you.'

Kurogane nodded conversationally, half-interested as he allowed that second meaning to skim over his ears. _You want more ice cream?_

Fye blinked, his teeth sinking into the edges of the sodden wooden stick, eyes widening as something cold slipped down his chest. He shook his head with a weary sigh – _No thanks_.

It was a moment Fye had believed would change their lives, completely shift and alter their spheres before he said it, before finding that the moment merely collapsed, caved into itself in trivialities. There had been bird song and the shuffle and sigh of the trees in the dusk air, amiable chirping ringing through in the background, heavenly in a way. The sun had glistened against the ice-cream, the thick slithers of melting drips running down the sides. All pretty trivial really.

Kurogane had sensed the disappointment in Fye. Sometimes he'd even wondered if he'd been expecting a kiss or an admission in return. Either way the moment seemed to stick with him – a brief minute in time in which every unsteady and childish inclination suddenly became compounded and gilded.

Thirteen years old, a childish infatuation had been and went, happily shunned and left behind in a dark recess bar those tiny moments of joy and that kiss - their first embarrassment, the first little pocket of love between them… In sprang a new era – one of adolescent yearning and pubescent drooling and attraction.

They both sat in different sex education classes, different rooms and pupils and teachers, both thinking of each other through every lacking sketch, each rough explanation and badly edited video. They gazed towards thoroughly 2-dimensional biological diagrams and their muscles clenched with unease. Suddenly there was a new meaning and depth to flesh, something they understood they'd find in each other.

There was something both innocent and dirty to entertaining the thoughts of what lay beneath each other's clothes, a harboured guilt and youthful glee, a curious thought while they watched boys and girls kiss on the playground and read textbooks about how babies were made. And never before had it felt so vitally important to want more.

Kurogane had understood anatomy perfectly well beforehand, had realised the bits and pieces that made both he and Fye male, had never before registered their significance, had never seen Fye's body as something so potentially joyous and wonderful, beautiful marble, softened, succulent, supple – he watched him refine in ways he'd never thought possible before or at the very least ways that had never occurred to him. And somewhere along the line, Fye turned from a childish companion with his head stuck in the clouds to a hidden desire, wonderfully crafted flesh and a smile that made his spine shiver.

At fourteen it became most obvious that some day they would enter the realms of sexually-active adult-hood, forgoing their naïve little realms of kissing and hand-touching. First they would need to pass lust.

Returning to the sex education classroom, Kurogane sat on his plastic seat surrounded by twenty others of the same age and dreamt of Fye again, imagining how both their bodies had changed, their voices lowering, their height clambering steadily upwards, developing figures and minds and hair creeping on them, both fine and thick.

Kurogane gulped… if Fye had blonde hair then… did that make…? Well…

Yes, they were both becoming things they'd never realised before.

But watching those videos, looking at pictures and hesitantly written definitions and assurances, orders sprayed across the board about protection and disease, he thought back to that single day and the thought started burrowing into his gut in frustration. It was something the videos didn't deign to explain – how would Fye have sex with other boys?

He just couldn't picture it, couldn't figure out any way around it no matter what angle he took it from, couldn't think of how or where these rather intimate proceedings were carried out and spent the majority of his sexual education trying to picture it in his mind, trying to piece it together logically with a rather vulgar but curious sense of exploratory deliberation.

And then he wondered – how would I have sex with other boys?

… How would I have sex with Fye?

***

It scared him to make love to Fye, terrified him senseless. Each breath pouring from his body, each noise or groan or tiny trembling movement tricked his mind, told him adamantly and convincingly that he was moulding Fye into something he was not, changing this pure state of being, shuffling about with it in a disgustingly beautiful and intimate ceremony. As if everything about him was leaking from beneath him in the fingers dug passionately into his skin, enraptured, his soul seeking some dreadful release… His breath spilled the ghost of a person and his motions dripped, oozed somehow with his life. It drenched and crumpled the sheets. When Kurogane made love to Fye he felt guilty and terrified, he became certain that he was destroying and ripping apart, marring the very thing he loved for his own base and selfish desires. And yet in the aftermath, Fye would always blink first then smile towards him, a slick and sultry smirk. He nearly laughed – a being and soul, enriched and fulfilled.

***

11.40pm, 3 months after Fye has left: whilst in his bed attempting to sleep, Kurogane in his vulnerable and hormonal teenaged frame wants to hear Fye's voice in his ear, wants to feel his breath, warm and moist, a tremor of gentle air drift soft and silky over his skin; wants to listen to it as his fingers press dreamily into bare skin.

He shifts over until Kurogane is almost immersed in his body heat, still painfully distant from his skin, their heartbeats shuddering together in joint union.

His beautiful voice breathes – _Kurogane, do you want to take off my clothes?_

***

**  
Kurogane ever removing Fye's clothes with the intention of making love to him:**

**From the standpoint of his sixteen year old hormonal teenaged frame in bed – 0.056327  
From the standpoint of his twenty one year old self upon kissing him at the bar – 0.948723**

* * *

_**a/n: ***nervously waits for response*_


	7. Chapter Seven: Growing Up

**_a/n:_**_ Watch as I attempt classic cheese.  
On a more serious note, I'm actually really glad I wrote this now. It's really nostalgic ;; I've not completely left home yet but I'm not with my friends being silly or loitering around the park anymore._

* * *

**  
Growing Up  
**_  
Ever since the day I met you_, he said, _you've always been kicking a ball about_. His lips twisted into a wry smirk, a pretty little tweak as he dragged his ankles along the dirt, with a glimmer of an edge that made Kurogane's heart curl and shiver. _Like it's the only thing you've known how to do_.  
_  
So?_ Kurogane muttered, clamming his teeth shut in a fierce bite. His foot whacked the ball, a hollow and blunt echo spinning through the air, ringing across the pitch. And then a dull patter as it dribbled across the ground across the other side of the grass. _So what if it's all I do?_ he huffed as he ran to get it, a light and familiar jog.  
_  
That's not what I meant!_ Fye called sharply, his voice pulsing over the distance to resound bitterly in Kurogane's ear.

Kurogane bent down to pick up his ball, held the silence of the city in his ear as he plucked it from the ground and tucked it under his arm with care. He could barely hear the leaves skim across themselves, they were so distant but he felt the gentle lick of the sun against his skin, the sharp breeze across his cheeks with nothing to shield himself from them, bathed in a sense, in the light and the chilled air. It whipped and lashed at his arms as he returned to Fye, sat solitary on the grass, a figure alone against the expanses of the skyline. And in that light he glowed and faded, dissolved into the grass and disappeared, something pitiful within his stance seeming loose and fragile, vulnerable to the autumn evening. His shoulders pinched and clenched in the cold, his hand, tattooed in ball-point pen, bent down to the battered and bruised blades of grass, fingers twiddling through the muddied and dried stalks as he ripped and scattered them distractedly. His expression sank so low as the breeze danced his hair about his face.

Eyelids sank half-way down - a dropped and loose gaze - as his lips set against each other firmly, held tight and thin in a hopeless expression, something swirling beneath him that couldn't be let out. Each blade of grass became a victim as his fingertips dived and ripped at them in frustration, in a lingering sorrow that shone within his eyes as Kurogane's shadow fell about him and enclosed him narrowly.

He gave a sorry sigh, sensing the approaching interrogation but it only poisoned Kurogane's mood and sharpened his annoyance.  
_  
What's wrong?_ he asked, somewhere between a remark and a caring question, emerging between scathing and reproachful.

Fye's lips pursed. _I'm moving_. His eyes lifted, caught Kurogane's apprehensively as they squinted against the sunlight.

Kurogane didn't respond, merely shuffled the ball uncomfortably under his arm as his lips hovered open for a moment, his brows knitted together.

Something dark emerged from the silence, from the emptiness about the two of them, clear and pure bar the birdsong and the dull vent of grass cutters in the distance, someone else kicked a football, a harsh contrast against their brittle air... it was painful, it rang about them, digging into their nerves as it rang and strengthened. Alone on the wide and open pitch, it was felt with greater clarity, it clashed awkwardly against their tensed stomachs and wandering eyes.  
_  
I've been adopted…_ Fye explained with a strung smile, false and wavering assurance. _They live in another town. Not far enough so that it's impossible but…_ he let out a soft breath, _Far enough,_ _I suppose_.  
Kurogane frowned. _So why hadn't you been adopted before? Aren't you too old now or what?  
_  
Fye's eyes rose, they met Kurogane's own so warmly. _My_ _brother. There's the obvious and then there's the fact that we were twins. We wouldn't be separated all that easily. And we both required different care… So…_ he gave a shrug, a sort of conclusion.  
_  
I don't get it_, Kurogane breathed angry. _I don't understand – why can't you just tell them you don't want to move? It's that simple, right?  
_  
Fye sighed again, he dusted bit of grass and browned and brittle debris from his lap; he flicked them away softly and slowly then stood, high against the pallor sky, damp jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt with those blonde locks gleaming on his stupid head. _I accepted the offer_, he threw with difficulty at Kurogane, snatching his bag from the ground, throwing it loosely over one shoulder.  
_  
What the hell do you mean you accepted the offer?_ Kurogane spat at him, shrinking back into himself almost immediately, passing a worried stare towards Fye…

He gave an opened armed shrug, allowed his palms to fall against his side with a clap against his thighs… _I accepted the offer_. And turned and walked off, trainers meekly crunching against the loose dirt and dried up grass.  
_  
What the hell?_ Kurogane snapped and yelled to his back. _So you want to go or something?_

Fye stopped, he turned back, gave an ice-cold stare to him. It sank straight into Kurogane's blood, froze him in place beyond his will. It chilled him, it made his stomach turn as his beautiful eyes pierced him in anger. _You don't get it, do you?_ his voice edged sharply and bitterly before carrying on again, hitching up his laden bag as he went. A fine down gleamed down his arm as he trudged on with his head lowered, with his mouth furled tight and a glower against his brow.

Kurogane heaved a groan, mumbled a few swears under his breath, churned them loosely on his tongue before jogging to snatch his own bag and ball, running to catch up with Fye._I'm listening!_ he yelled.  
_  
I don't know…_ Fye breathed, something curled up beneath him pressing against his skin, pulsing in a desperate knot, willing to emerge.  
_  
Tell me_, Kurogane said, pacing alongside them. _You want to say something, just say it. Doesn't matter if I get it or not._

Fye's eyes drifted over to his, held them there in a soft gaze that made both their spines shiver and curl in excitement as something seemed to overlap and connect beneath them. Kurogane could even swear he saw a tiny and momentary smile break from the corner of Fye's lips _… It's obvious… and I doubt you ever thought about it but … When you were a little kid you talked to me because you thought that we were the same. I mean, we were both pretty lonely as kids but you can't call it the same…_ he started, his voice starting conversationally, dripping from harboured and refined thoughts and emotions, lying stale before being frantically stirred within his mentality. _You have a mother. And it doesn't matter how often she was there for you, you have a mother, someone who you'll come home to and she'll tell you she loves you however many times you need to hear it. So you've gone all these year thinking you understand me when you don't_, Fye launched difficultly into the air, something unwinding and spilling from his chest as he carried on. _And it doesn't matter how much you care or try because that doesn't make up for the fact that you don't know what it feels like to have no parents_. He took a breath, exhaled it roughly. _I'd be lying if I said that I don't feel loved because I guess I'm lucky, there are loads of people who care for me but I don't know… I'm tired of not knowing. I'm fed up of trying to figure out what it'd be like to be supported by someone that close to you, someone who loves you from the bottom of your heart and they're not going to let you go, they'll never let go. They'll never tell you you're a mistake or you're not right or you're worth nothing because they love you. And I'm sick of feeling alone ever since he died. I'm sick of it!_ He cut off, taking an awkward, emotional gulp.

Beside him, Kurogane's shoulders tensed, his expression set in uneasy acceptance as he watched a tear edge from the corner of Fye's eye, brushed fiercely away.  
_  
You know why I stepped in front of cars when I was a kid?_ his voice trembled. _I wanted to know what it felt like. I was so curious about that impact I nearly killed myself… But I've realised now…_ a sharp and slick smirk wiped against his face. _I was just some sick, attention seeking kid… pathetic, right?_ His lips twitched and quavered, gradually sunk and he bit the inside of his cheek, closed his eyes…

And then smiled, a true and glowing perk to his lips as his eyes shone delicate and fragile into Kurogane's own. He finished, a voice like a whisper. _I'm grateful you were always here… I'll miss you._

Kurogane took in a breath through his nose that scraped along the edges of his nostrils as he inhaled, shut his eyes briefly and then laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, clenched it tightly.

***

**Fye changing his mind – 0.6537202**


End file.
